The Season's Change Was A Conduit
by MissGoalie75
Summary: Lily and James talk about their futures before Seventh Year.


A/N: Written for the most recent Lily/James Fest on LJ. Special thanks to my beta, lordrandallslady, for really shaping this piece up for me!

Standard disclaimers apply.

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><p><em>Squeaky swings and tall grass<em>

_The longest shadows ever cast_

_The water's warm and children swim_

_And we frolicked about in our summer skin._

_- Death Cab For Cutie_

The Season's Change Was A Conduit

"What are you thinking about?"

James doesn't answer Lily as he stares up at the vast, too-blue sky. _Not a single cloud_, he thinks to himself. The weather today is flawless and yet he finds himself wishing there were clouds so he could distinguish shapes and animals in the masses.

He wants something to distract him from the fact that they're a mere _few inches_ apart; he's pretty sure he can feel her body heat radiate into his side, making him feverish in a sickeningly good way.

"I like to look for shapes in clouds," he answers about a minute later, deciding to be honest with her.

He can sense her smile beside him. "Yeah, me too. Shame we can't do it now."

"Yeah."

He breathes in the warm air, the heat from the sun trapped in his shirt. He kind of wants to take it off, but he's too comfortable to move. Besides, he's pretty sure there's some sort of friendship rule about being half-naked only when necessary as to avoid certain _tensions_. If such a rule doesn't exist, he's making it up now because he's suffered through so many of these _tensions_ this past year that he feels like a coiled wire, ready to spring at any moment.

"Are you still in a tizzy about being made Head Boy?" she asks out of the blue, trying to stare him down…

He hates when she does that because he always finds himself staring shamelessly at the green of her eyes – _why are they so green_?

He squeezes his eyes shut and groans. "I'm trying to forget about that."

He sneaks a peak at her when he hears her sigh. "Why? I certainly don't mind. On the contrary, I'm rather glad. I swear, if Edward Mc_Twat_ were made Head Boy I would've done myself in," she jokes, her smile causing the corners of her eyes to crinkle. He always thought of telling her that her smiles are the best because they envelop her entire expression, but again, that violates some sort of friendship rule (probably, anyway).

He closes his eyes again when he quips, "At least he's _qualified_, being a prefect and all despite his _many_ arse-like qualities," because he likes arguing with her. He's come to the conclusion that getting a rise out of her is a twisted substitute for snogging: there's an excellent amount of tension that's given and taken away.

"Dumbledore wouldn't have chosen you if he didn't think –"

"Oh, come on, Lils. Can you honestly say with a straight face that you think Dumbledore is _completely_ in his right mind?"

He turns his head to look into her eyes, which drop to the patch of grass between them.

"Fair enough," she starts slowly, "but I do really think that you're going to be brilliant." Her eyes are focused on him again, trying to convince him with her confidence.

The corner of his mouth twitches. "At least I have one supporter," he admits, secretly thrilled at her vote of confidence.

She narrows her eyes, picking up on the implication behind his words. "Why, what did the Marauders say?"

He sighs, rolling his head so he's facing the sky again. "Oh, y'know, Pad-_Sirius_ and Pete just laughed. I did too, granted; I thought it was a prank. Minnie deciding to exact revenge after putting up with all our shite."

Lily laughs, her back arching a little above the prickling grass, a mimic of a moment he's only allowed himself to play out in heated dreams. He forces himself to swallow and focus on the words eloquently rolling out of her perfect mouth. "I doubt she would do that – she's too much of a professional. Besides, I think she's holding out until the end of the year."

James wiggles his eyebrows, hoping the silly gesture distracts her from the too-obvious longing flashing in his eyes. "Oh, dear _Merlin_, I hope so. I say _bring it on_."

"Be careful what you wish for, Potter. With one, incredible act she'll probably manage to erase everything you ever did."

"If she manages to get us _that_ good, I'd be more than willing to accept defeat."

"I think Sirius would bawl like a baby if that were to happen," she concludes with a slight shake of her head, still unable to believe how eccentric and odd his best friend is.

He laughs loudly, knowing she's all too right. "Sure, we'd kick and scream and deny it at first, but we're gentlemen and scholars at heart" – Lily snorts – "_Seriously_. Pardon the pun. And _then_ we'd admit defeat."

"I'd love to see that."

He sneaks a glance at her. "We're all capable of it," he informs her, his eyes full of melancholy. He wishes he could go back to being fifteen when he didn't know just how devastating the world has become beyond Hogwarts' safe walls.

She inhales sharply. "I don't think so," she responds with honesty, "You're seventeen-year-old boys; you think you're invincible."

"Not so much anymore," he whispers, recent articles from the _Daily Prophet_ coming to mind about torture and missing people.

"Well, I'm impressed. James Potter is growing up," she says in a half-joking manner.

He wants to joke about it right back, say that it's impossible or that in his heart he's still seven. But it's hard, especially when the past year was spent reading about deaths in the newspaper and noticing more and more of his peers with haunted expressions on their faces. Not to mention the fact that he spent the past year shamelessly, internally pining for the girl beside him as she dated another guy. For all that breath he wasted when he used to gush about his "feelings" for her, he didn't realize he was capable of actually feeling something_ real._

He scrapes his teeth over his bottom lip. Today's perfection is mocking him, actually. His life is far from perfect as he worries about the future of the wizarding world, his parents' health, the friendship between the Marauders, and his constant reeling back emotions when it comes to dealing with Lily.

"What about Remus?" she prompts, oblivious to his dark thoughts.

"What?"

"How did he react to the news? I know he didn't want the job, understandably, so I doubt he fell into a jealous rage of Othello-like proportions."

He grimaces. "I'm going to ignore that reference to the worst Shakespeare play ever" – she laughs, clearly pleased with herself – "and say yeah, uh, he was cool about it. You know, typical even-headed Remmy. He spewed some cock and bull about it being a wise decision about needing a 'different kind of leader' nowadays, but I tuned him out halfway through."

She scoffs and rolls her eyes as she always does whenever he says something stupid (which is half the time, really). "Out of all your friends, you should listen to _him_."

He's tempted to point out that Remus is hardly the commendable guy. Remus was, after all, the first of the four to lose his virginity and it was to a _fuck buddy_, no less. James tries to ignore the fact that he's not actually sure if he lost his virginity – last summer was spent in a drunken haze in France. Surprisingly, Sirius is the most commendable (besides poor, virgin Pete) by losing his during a sad attempt at being a boyfriend.

"Yeah, yeah," James says, waving his hand before letting it drop on his stomach. "What about your family? I doubt they were very surprised."

Her mouth drops as if he affronted her. "My dad was! He's the only one who really understands that I'm _so_ not Little Miss Perfect," she counters, "He 'hoped' that the staff would recognize that and finally categorize me with you ruffians."

He chuckles, his abdomen clenching under his hand. "Your dad is the best. One of my favorite people _ever_."

She frowns. "Lovely. I'll make sure to let him know that so you guys can be drinking buddies after graduating."

He waves a dismissive hand at her suggestion. "Please, we're already ahead of you: the first week after Hogwarts we're meeting for a Muggle beer. Frankly, I'm not quite looking forward to the beverage since Muggle alcohol is absolutely disgusting, but we will bond and then he'll love me more than you," he teases because if there's one thing she hates more than anything, it's being teased; she never could take what she dishes out.

"_Impossible _– I'm Daddy's Little Girl. I'm his favorite." She flutters her eyelashes innocently but he knows better. There's a reason why James and her father get along so swimmingly – they know there's a mischievous side to her that reveals itself with cheeky retorts and laughter hidden behind palms at a well-executed prank.

"For now."

Lily reaches across the space between them so she can slap him, but he rolls out of the way and just laughs as her fingers brush against his back, the light touch somehow causing heat to pool into his stomach. She ends up laughing as well, unaware as her fingers curl around the fabric of his soft shirt before she pulls to get him on his back again.

They catch their bearings slowly, their breathing evening out. Her hand is now awkwardly resting on the space where his shirt ends and his skin starts on his arm. It's almost too hot and he's tempted to swat her hand away, but this is the first time she's lingering since May (not like he's been keeping track or anything). His eyes search her face, looking for something – _anything_ – that might let him know she's feeling the same thing is.

"Are we ever going to talk about it?" he inquires, reaching over to wrap his hand around her fingers, the impulsiveness that will never die with age taking over. What immediately follows is the familiar sense of "_should've kept my mouth shut_."

Her hand tenses on him and he expects her to retract it, but he's more than surprised when she relaxes and sighs. "What's there to say, James?" she asks, curious and maybe just a tad hesitant. "Adam broke up with me, I was upset, and you…"

"I was there," he finishes for her because there's no way to get around it. His heart clenches at the realization that maybe he's been wrong all this time.

She frowns apologetically.

He lets out a frustrated sigh. "I didn't appreciate your ignoring me either," he adds, sounding colder than he wanted, but not regretting it; he's _hurt_.

"Sorry that I needed to get my head on straight," she retorts, her voice drenched in sarcasm, "It's not like it was a big deal or anything, yeah?"

"We could've talked about it _together_ because it's not like it didn't _fuck _with my head either." He's pretty sure he walked around the corridors in a half-dead daze for the last few weeks of classes due to over thinking everything that happened with Lily.

"Look, can we not fight about this? It's a beautiful summer day and I'm enjoying it with you," she pleads desperately, making him falter, making him regret his harsh tone.

He shakes his head and stares pointedly at the sky. Sometimes she just annoys the _shit_ out of him.

"I'm sorry," she tells him finally, swallowing her pride, which is usually difficult for her (and for him), "but I was confused and I knew that if we talked about it, then…"

"What?" he prompts her, looking her hard in the eyes, hating it when people trail off on him.

She looks away, her cheeks taking on a rosy blush.

"Oh," he says, drawing the sound out as all the pieces click into place. Instead of sleepless nights and silent treatments, they could've been sneaking snogs in between classes and holding hands under the table during Transfiguration.

_And the former was somehow better because…?_

"You're my _best friend_, James," she says, bringing him back to the present. She looks at him with such desperation as she grips his sleeve tighter, his heart aches and his fingers tighten over her own.

"That doesn't have to change," he says breathlessly, wishing he were closer to her. Releasing her hand, he reaches up to cup her cheek. It's as soft as he remembers.

"But it _would_," she replies, slightly breathless, and he notes with no small amount of male pride that she's not pulling away from his touch.

"The only thing that would change is that we'd snog whenever we wanted, which is a bloody awesome bonus." He can't help but glance down at her mouth, running his thumb over her lips that are so full and pink and…_fuck_. Why oh _why_ did they spend the last few weeks of school avoiding each other when they could've been doing so many _other_ things that involve equal amounts of not talking?

Her laugh is strained. "But you _know_ what can happen when two Heads are in a relationship – don't you remember Paul and Pippa in our third year? She _threw people into the walls_ after she found out that he cheated on her with _John McCartney_!"

He laughs at her disbelief. "That never fails to crack me up."

"What…" then she scoffs. "Seriously? It's not _that_ funny. John and Paul are very common names, ignoring the most famous ones."

"Okay, we're getting off track, I'm sorry, that was my fault. But come_ on_, Lily. We're not like _Paul and Pippa_. Pippa was a closeted psycho, control freak and you're very open about your craziness."

"And you're not a closeted homosexual," she adds before pausing. "At least…unless you have something to share." Her expression is serious but her eyes are sparkling with amusement; she never could hide anything with such expressive eyes. He knows what she's doing, trying to lighten the mood…trying to let him down easy before things can get even more awkward than they already are. He can't help but love her a little bit more for it.

"Piss off," he replies, his tone full of mock indignation as he grins at her. With no small amount of effort, he retracts his hand, silently agreeing that, for now, he needs to back off a little before he makes her so uncomfortable that she runs, setting them right back to where they started.

She grins, letting go of his shirt and flopping on her back. He misses her touch even though he was beginning to become self-conscious with how hot and sweaty he is.

"So…" he starts, his head turned to stare at her profile, "Can we agree that we're not like Paul and Pippa?"

She breathes out through her nose, her lips pursed. "Fine," she concedes, "But –"

"We don't have to start dating _now_," he blurts before she can completely shut down the possibility, "We can just…agree that the development of our relationship into something romantic is a definite possibility. In the future."

She furrows her brow, similar to when Slughorn says something in Potions that she doesn't agree with. "That's just strange. I feel like if I agree to that, then I'll be tied down anyway."

"But you really wouldn't be."

She's looks him dead in the eye. "So you can tell me that if I were to start dating someone this year, you _won't_ be upset about it?"

"That's not fair – I wasn't _thrilled_ with your dating Adam last year but I was extremely mature about it and didn't even prank him _once_." She gives him a pointed look. "Okay, except April Fool's, but we pranked _everyone_. No one is safe on April Fool's Day."

"Fine, I'll _admit_ that you didn't scare him away after the first two weeks."

"Thank you. Look, I'm not saying we should run off to the church _tomorrow_. All I'm saying is that I really, _really_ fancy you and I think you may just fancy me back."

He knows he said the wrong thing when her face contorts into that grimace he hasn't seen since Fifth Year. "And here comes your ego, finally making its grand entrance," she states with so much acidity that it takes him aback.

"If I said that two years ago, it would've been my ego talking. Right now? It's my _brain_," he retorts defensively because he doesn't deserve her anger or anything else. He _knows_ he's right about this and he's not about to let her deny it.

"Oh yes, your brain in your _overly large head_ is informing you that I _must_ fancy you because you fancy me."

"You mean because you snogged me within an inch of our lives not even a few hours after Shields broke up with you? Because you blush when I catch you staring at me sometimes? Because you –" he rants, finding himself swept up in irritation. Why does she have to be so _bloody_ obstinate about this?

"Okay, I get it," Lily snaps, her face turning bright red. "So maybe I do. A little bit. But that doesn't mean –"

"I _know_. Fuck, it's like talking to a brick wall!" James mutters, running a hand through his hair. Of course he's unable to fully appreciate the fact that she just admitted to fancying him because she's acting like a brat. He raises himself onto his forearm so he's resting his weight on his side as he stares down at her. "I fancy you, you fancy me. I know that's not enough to start anything, even though I wish it were. But I was hoping that one day, _maybe_, in the future, if I were to ask you out to Hogsmeade…you'd say yes."

She traps her bottom lip between her teeth and he's so, _so_ tempted to kiss her. He watches her chest rise and fall for a few seconds before staring at her face.

"I'm not some Snitch you chase after in a match," she points out.

He sighs and drops his head for a moment, hiding his eyes behind his unruly mop of hair. "Honestly, Lily, you're kind of becoming more like my other half at this rate, so please don't make a comparison that I haven't used in at least two years."

Oh, _bloody hell_…did he really just say that she was his other half? _Where's a rogue Bludger when you need one, _he thinks in desperation and embarrassment.

"_Hah_! So you admit that you _did_ think of me in that way," she exclaims in triumph.

He lets out a relieved sigh, glad she chose to not focus on the first part his comment. "Of course – a Quidditch-minded lad like me? The metaphor was too perfect to ignore," he concedes, raising his eyes to look at her once more. He watches her in amusement as she tries to hold back laughter.

"I don't think of you like that though. Not anymore" he continues, feeling the need to reiterate and break the growing silence between them because his position, gazing over her, is almost too intimate.

She runs the tip of her tongue over her top lip and because he has no self-control, he follows the movement, his brain melting with a mixture of summer warmth and lust.

"So…" she starts, blushing endearingly and he knows she can see impatient hunger in his eyes.

"So," he echoes, using all of his willpower not to just lean down and close the space between them. It would be so _easy_…

"We haven't really come to any sort of conclusion or agreement yet," she says, breaking through his thoughts.

"No, we haven't," he says, giving himself a mental shake. "I mean…I said what I wanted to say, but you haven't really given me an answer. You've insulted me, questioned my motives, _and _begrudgingly admitted that you fancied me, which, by the way, really wasn't the way I imagined your telling me."

"Well, I'm sorry." It's half sarcastic and half serious, judging by the quirk of her lips and her steady gaze.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm over the moon about knowing for sure, but I expected us to have eye contact and you admitting it in a kinder manner. Preferably with some snogging," he continues, a slight smile on his face.

She suddenly takes his hand with her warm, sweaty one, lacing their fingers together as she looks him directly in the eyes and says, "I fancy you. It was hard coming to terms with it, but there it is."

His heart stops, then _soars, _and he can't help but beam at her. _This_, whatever it is between them, is _so_ not meant for friendship and he's just relieved and thrilled that she can _finally_ embrace it. Finally, they're on the same page about _them_.

"But I want to be single for a while," she adds quietly. "I was seeing Adam for months and I need me time, if that makes sense."

He nods, unable to stop the sinking feeling in his stomach. Even though he knows where she's coming from, he can't help but be a little afraid. "Yeah. I get it."

"But," she adds with a hint of a mischief and a lot of affection, "If you happen to ask me out before the end of winter term…I think you can safely expect a positive answer."

If it wouldn't make him look completely bonkers, he's pretty sure he could jump to his feet and start dancing and singing – that's how happy he is. "Well that's reassuring," he answers as calmly as possible, even though his insides are practically _trembling_ at the thought of their future.

"That is, you know, if you don't start fancying anyone else in the mean time," she adds with insecurity, which he rarely sees in her.

He snorts, getting to his feet, pulling her with him. "Trust me, that's not going to happen, Evans." He squeezes her hand. "Let's go pester Remmy to make lemonade."

She quirks her head to the side. "Don't you think we should let him sleep a little? It seemed like he had a rough night before we got here."

"Nah, he's young. He can get over it."

She shakes her head in disbelief, and follows him up the hill.

He supposes that it's no longer necessary to hold her hand as they walk back up to the house, but as long as she keeps holding on, he will too.

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><p>AN: Be an awesome person and leave a review!

MissGoalie


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